


Beat Rock Love: Rocking Together

by lucybeetle



Series: Beat Rock Love [10]
Category: Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Crack, M/M, Makeup Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucybeetle/pseuds/lucybeetle
Summary: AU. Makoto knows Alan will meet him by the waterfront one more time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guava/gifts).



> So, this fic that started as a short one-shot has now reached its ninth chapter and has one left to go! I wanted to give the boys a happy ending, and they're going to get one. Many thanks again to guava for the inspiration.

Makoto called Takeru first, to see if Alan had been in touch. He hadn’t.

“Makoto-nii-chan, what are we going to do? I’ve already had calls about equipment hire and all sorts of other stuff for the tour. We have to speak to Alan. We can’t just do nothing,” said Takeru.

“It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine. I promise,” said Makoto. “I’ll call you soon.”

Alan still wasn’t answering his phone, so Makoto left an answerphone message for him.

“It’s me. I know you’ll listen to this message. Just meet me.”

Makoto didn’t need to specify where. There was only one place the two of them went to meet: by the waterfront. Makoto had loved the waterfront as a child, before his father walked out and Makoto and Kanon were taken into care. Later, it had been the first place he’d shown Alan when they had moved back to Tokyo together; even before the temple. They’d spent many hours sitting there chatting, or eating takoyaki together, or Alan painting the scene, or just watching the view in silence as they leaned against each other. The Alan that Makoto knew couldn’t refuse a request to meet him beside the water.

Makoto waited for over an hour. He still could not quite believe Alan wasn’t there. Maybe Alan was working, or visiting someone, and hadn’t had time to check his phone. That was a much happier thought than believing that Alan would give up on everything they’d shared.

It was getting dark, and Makoto was almost preparing to leave when a familiar golden head and green sweater came into view.

“Alan.”

He slowly drew closer.

“Alan, what happened? Why did you move out?” said Makoto.

Alan didn’t answer. He sat down on a bench; not meeting Makoto’s gaze. Makoto went to sit beside him, and after several minutes, Alan’s fingers reached out for Makoto’s. Makoto took hold of Alan’s hand.

“I thought you would be angry with me,” said Alan, in a very small voice.

“Yeah, I was, but it wasn’t _that_ bad. You could have come home,” said Makoto.

“I removed you from the car.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I was frustrated with you. My brother had been making advances toward you all afternoon and you did not refuse him.”

Makoto took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm, “I wasn’t _encouraging_ him. Adel always does that. You know he does.” An unexpected wave of panic ran through Makoto as he thought about Adel’s office and the doll. For all he knew, Adel could be looking for him at this very minute.

“Then you accused me of having an affair with Javert.”

“I didn’t.” Makoto felt his jaw clenching at the mere memory of Javert throwing himself at Alan. “I didn’t say anything about cheating. But he keeps dressing up and trying to get your attention and –”

“He is lonely. Onari and I have been talking about how we can encourage Javert to make friends and take up social activities. Now that he has resumed his interest in music, perhaps he will have something to share with others,” said Alan.

It made sense. Onari had a loving family and thrived at the temple, while Javert was isolated with little to no life outside of work; it didn’t take much to work out why his flirting had got worse since Team ADULT reunited. Makoto felt a _little_ sorry for him, although being lonely didn’t exactly give Javert carte blanche to try to snatch someone’s boyfriend.

“OK. I’m sorry,” said Makoto. “Why didn’t you just tell me this stuff? Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

Alan looked down at the ground and didn’t answer.

“It was just a stupid fight, Alan. You didn’t have to move out.”

After several moments of silence Alan said “I thought you would hate me.”

“Of course I don’t hate you. Why would you ever think that? You’re –” There were a lot of words Makoto could have chosen to fill in here. In the end he went with “-my boyfriend. We’ve been together since we were kids. I love you.”

“But I shouted at you. And ordered you out of the car.”

“Yeah, I was angry with you. But I would have got over it.” Makoto took a deep breath. It worried him that ten years after the fight that had ended their relationship, Alan still didn’t seem to understand this. He wasn’t a child. “Everyone argues, Alan. It doesn’t mean you can’t still be together. Akari and Onari argue all the time but look at how much they love each other.”

“I disappointed you. Why would you want me to come home after that?”

“You didn’t disappoint me. It wasn’t just your fault. And even if it were -” Makoto wrapped his arms around Alan, “I love you. Your dad loves you. We’re not gonna _stop_ loving you just because you make a mistake.”

Alan buried his face in Makoto’s shoulder. They clung onto each other for several minutes; Makoto gently stroking Alan’s hair, teasing at the soft golden streaks, as Alan sobbed into Makoto’s chest. When the had finally quietened down into soft sniffling, Makoto checked on him one more time before giving him a soft kiss.

“We lost ten years already. Let’s not waste any more time,” said Makoto.  “Come home with me.”

“I will need to collect my belongings from the family home,” said Alan.

“It’s OK. I’ll come and help you. And I’d like to say hello to Alia, if she’s there.” Makoto felt a little guilty that she’d got caught up in the drama of his and Alan’s breakup.

They walked to the station together and took a train as close as possible to the de Ganma home; then walked the rest of the way. The house was guarded at all times by security staff, so Alan had to press an intercom to be allowed in. Its vast iron gates swung open and Makoto was inside the estate. It was a while since he’d been here.

He couldn’t deny that the grounds were beautiful, and so was the house itself: marble interiors, swimming pool, Jacuzzi, and even a library. It was home to Alan and his family but all the same, it didn’t feel like a home to Makoto – more like a five-star hotel. He knew he wouldn’t want to live here with Alan even if Kanon were to move out of their apartment.

Makoto spent about an hour helping Alan pack his many possessions. Alan had a huge travel bag full of skincare products, a suitcase full of art supplies, and a takoyaki grill on top of everything else. In retrospect, Makoto was surprised that Alia had managed to pack so quickly when she’d come to the apartment to collect Alan’s things.

“How are we going to get all this stuff back on the train? We’re going to have to do two trips,” Makoto said.

“My sister is not working tomorrow. She will not mind driving us back in the morning.”

“It’s not fair to ask her. What if she has plans?” said Makoto.

“We have agreed to visit Fumi-baa together in the afternoon,” said Alan.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean Alia wants to drive you and all your stuff over there.”

“We may ask Edith, then. He has a minivan.”

“He’s probably busy. We shouldn’t bother him,” said Makoto. Edith was an exceptionally good lawyer but, like the de Ganma family, he was very much given to eccentricity. Makoto didn’t relish the idea of driving anywhere with him; even a fairly short trip.

Alan sighed. “Very well. I will hire a taxi.”

“No, you won’t! It’ll cost a fortune,” said Makoto.

“Are you offering to pay for it?”

Makoto gave Alan a kiss, both for being cute and to quiet him from coming out with any further cheeky remarks. Alan returned the kiss with much more intensity, fingers curling in Makoto’s hair and around his sleeve.

It felt _good_ to be in Alan’s arms again. They’d been so busy recently with the tour and rehearsals and everything else that this side of their relationship had all but died out over the last few weeks. Makoto briefly wondered if that had contributed to their fight; but chose to let these thoughts drift out of his mind, let Alan’s hands caress Makoto all over, let Alan strip Makoto of his clothes and lie him down on the huge bed.

Alan trailed a path of kisses along Makoto’s lower stomach, then gradually moved upwards until he could reach Makoto’s nipples and collarbone. Makoto’s body was rigid with lust and although he never _begged_ for anything, it didn’t hurt to ask.

“C’mon, Alan. Please?”

“What are you saying please for?” said Alan.

“You know what!” Makoto drew Alan close and kissed him, frantic, wanting Makoto desperately – “Just do it, OK?”

“Don’t you think you were mean to me at the video shoot?” said Alan in his sweetest of tones.

Makoto blinked his eyes open. “What?” If Alan had done all this just to torment Makoto and leave him unsatisfied, Makoto intended to be a whole lot meaner. Starting with leaving Alan to get his own luggage back to the apartment without any help.

“I think you should make it up to me.” Alan spread himself out on the bed beside Makoto and opened his legs, “Maybe I’ll do it _if_ you say you’re sorry.”

“I can’t believe this,” Makoto muttered. All the same, he got onto his knees and edged across the bed; taking Alan gently between Makoto’s lips. Alan chose this moment to give the cutest little sigh that sent a thrill through Makoto’s body and reminded him exactly why he had agreed to indulge Alan. Makoto sucked lightly, drawing in only the tip of Alan’s cock, using his hands to stimulate the rest. He knew from experience that taking Alan any further back would bring the whole encounter to a swift, sticky end. Alan seemed to enjoy it anyway, moaning and wriggling about so much that it was difficult for Makoto to continue.

“Can’t you keep still?” Makoto hissed. All the same, he was used to it. He knew exactly what reaction he could provoke from each little place on Alan’s body; he knew every hitch of Alan’s breath; every shift of Alan’s hips; just the right moment to pull away before Alan came, and begin preparing his body for Alan instead.

Alan entered Makoto, gently pressing their lips together. It had been weeks since they’d done this and even longer since they’d taken time to do it slowly and focus on each other. Being in Alan’s room brought back memories of their first time together, in Alan’s bedroom at his family’s old home. Makoto was sixteen; Alan was eighteen and just about to leave for university in Tokyo. He’d offered to take Makoto and Kanon with him so that they wouldn’t have to live in the children’s home ever again. Makoto had felt so close to Alan and so loved that he’d been ready to take that step. It had been a little painful and awkward, as teen sex was wont to be - but it was a wonderful experience and the memory was precious in Makoto’s heart. Their sex life had improved since then and, more importantly, their love had grown stronger.

Makoto’s initial discomfort eased a little as he began to relax into Alan’s embrace. Alan’s lips were soft and sweet and his hands gentle, stroking Makoto quickly though not so hurried as to overwhelm him. Makoto usually treated it as a point of honour that he could get off without any external stimulation but he let Alan continue; Makoto caressing Alan’s skin in return. Neither of them lasted much longer. Makoto let Alan stay in place, to continue the slow, lazy kisses and exploring each other’s bodies with their hands. That feeling of closeness and affection was much more important to Makoto than how long Alan had been inside him.

Alan finally got up and went to the bathroom, fetching a sponge to clean up himself and Makoto. As Makoto snuggled with him, preparing to sleep, Alan said “Will you marry me?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Mmh.” Makoto was sleepy and thought Alan was joking, “Don’t be silly. It’s not legal.”

“We live in Setagaya, one of two wards of Tokyo which issues certificates to same-sex couples. Our marriage will not be legally recognised … but local authorities will acknowledge us as married. And to me, you will always be my husband,” Alan said.

That made Makoto still. Alan was serious, then. As Makoto had said to Takeru, he wasn’t sure he saw any real benefit in the idea of marriage. For official purposes, there would be no change in their circumstances; and he believed with all his heart that he and Alan would be together for the rest of their lives. They didn’t need official recognition to have a lasting, loving relationship. All the same, he liked the idea of making a public commitment to each other. It would represent a new start, a promise to love each other more each day; to weather the storms of life together; to fight for what they had together instead of giving up over a silly argument. That was what Makoto wanted more than anything.

“All right … Yes.”

Alan threw his arms around Makoto and kissed him deeply. When they broke apart for some air, Alan moved across to his bedside cabinet and reached into one of the drawers. Makoto hesitated, because if Alan wanted sex again Makoto wasn’t ready for _that_ just yet; but instead, Alan presented him with a box.

“I wanted very much to hope that you would accept my proposal. I have taken the liberty of buying this for you,” Alan said.

Makoto’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest. He hadn’t felt anticipation like this since their anniversary, when he thought his present from Alan might be a ring. Now that he was really getting one, he felt too excited even to open it.

“Don’t you want to see it?” said Alan, confused.

Makoto didn’t want to disappoint Alan so he prised the box open with fingers shaking. The ring had an enormous green stone in the centre, surrounded by three only marginally smaller diamonds each side. It looked like the most expensive knuckleduster Makoto had ever seen. Alan wasn’t given to understatement so perhaps his choice of engagement ring should not have come as a surprise.

“Is that an emerald?” Makoto asked.

“No.” Alan looked almost offended by this suggestion. “It is green tourmaline. Emeralds are soft and do not wear well on the hand.”

“It’s lovely,” Makoto said weakly. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful; the cost of this ring could probably feed the inhabitants of a small country for the next decade. All the same, he would be afraid to wear it since the slightest knock was liable to damage the jewels.

“It is intended to look beautiful but be effective as a weapon. Should I ever need you to defend me, you will be able to punch my attacker and cause serious injury,” said Alan.

“Can’t you punch them yourself?” said Makoto.

“My hands are insured because of my modelling work. Anything that might injure them, such as punching someone, would void the terms of my insurance.”

Naturally. Makoto resolved that, at a later stage, he would cite his fears of damaging the beautiful ring and persuade Alan to exchange it for a tasteful solitaire.

Alan slipped the ring onto Makoto’s finger and kissed him. Makoto was content to let his thoughts drift as his new fiancé held him close.

***

Alia had been delighted at the news of Alan and Makoto’s engagement. Makoto hadn’t spoken to Adonis, but when Alan hung up the phone he reported that his father was very happy too.

“So that’s what the party was for!” said Alia, as they sat around the kitchen table drinking tea together. “I _knew_ it wasn’t just for your nose. You wanted to celebrate your engagement but you couldn’t tell anyone until you had spoken to Father.”

“It is most certainly for my nose,” said Alan, bristling. “We will have a separate engagement party.”

“Nose?” said Makoto.

“A prestigious cosmetic surgery clinic has told me that I have the most naturally perfect nose they have ever seen. They are going to hire me as a model for patients with inferior noses,” said Alan proudly.

Makoto sighed. At least Alan would look pretty in the wedding photos.

Later, Alia took out some family photo albums and the three sat on the sofa together browsing through them. There were many pictures of Adonis as a young man, with his own father, his own siblings, and eventually with his wife. She had looked a lot like Alia.

“This is when they were first married,” said Alia, pointing out one picture of the young couple standing on a hillside together. Her voice took on a dreamy tone, “Father was travelling in Japan and stopped in the village where my mother lived. He was informed that she was the best seamstress in town. He asked her to alter his trousers to the new style at the time. As soon as she saw him in his new trousers, she fell in love with him.”

Makoto hoped it wasn’t the pair of trousers Adonis was wearing in the photo. They looked so tight that it seemed surprising he’d gone on to have four children.

There were many photos of Argos, Alia, Adel and Alan as children growing up. Some of the pictures had Makoto and Kanon in them. Alan’s thirteenth birthday party; the de Ganma family celebrating a European-style Christmas, sitting beside the tree with Makoto and Kanon; Alan at his high school graduation with Makoto, before they’d moved to Tokyo together. Over the course of the album the school pictures turned into university graduations and then weddings. Argos’s wedding, on a drug dealer’s boat in Colombia. Adel’s weddings over the years: his first when he was only twenty years old, his latest a couple of years ago.

His wives ranged from a Cathay Pacific air hostess to a couple of porn stars and strippers, and even the daughter of a Russian oligarch. Her father had, Alan proudly informed Makoto, lost almost a quarter of a billion dollars to Adel in the divorce hearing. All the women in the photos had fake breasts and wore jeans or PVC leggings that looked like they had been sprayed on.

“Father has never missed a single one of his children’s weddings,” said Alan proudly. “Not even when my brother got married in Vegas. Father persuaded Adel to delay the ceremony for several hours, and flew over there on the next jet.”

“Sandy was good for Adel,” said Alia. “It’s a shame he decided to get an annulment when he sobered up a week later.”

“Have you ever wondered if the people in your family have a type?” said Makoto, looking at the picture of Sandy, whose legs were covered in strips of leather so snug they threatened to cut off the blood to her vital organs.

The most recent pictures were of Adonis’s grandchildren; six of them, from his two eldest sons.

“Now we’ll be able to put your wedding photos in here, too,” said Alia with a smile.

“What about yours, sis? One day,” said Alan.

“Maybe not,” said Alia, her voice a little wistful. “You were lucky to find the right person so early in your life.”

Makoto felt for her. He knew she was right. He _had_ been lucky, and he’d spend the rest of his life showing his gratitude for it. He would be the best husband he could possibly be, and support Alan in any way he could.

“By the way, would you mind driving us back to our apartment this afternoon?” said Alan.

As usual, he hadn’t listened to a word Makoto said. One thing Makoto did know about marriage was that all bad habits of a spouse will persist and worsen.

***

“So, ATM is back together? You’re going ahead with the tour?” said Shibuya.

Alan and Makoto were sitting in the park, surrounded by their friends and Fumi-baa. They were quite contentedly enjoying takoyaki and apple crumble, relaxing in the late afternoon sunshine.

“Yes. It is Takeru’s dream, and my husband and I will work hard with him to make that come true,” said Alan. He squeezed Makoto’s shoulder, and Makoto felt so content he didn’t bother to point out that they weren’t married quite yet.

Makoto looked at his watch. Takeru still hadn’t shown up. He’d explained on the phone that he had an appointment that afternoon but would get there as soon as he could. Makoto felt Kanon’s body tense beside him, and he glanced at her quizzically.

“Marriage is a very serious commitment, Master Alan, Master Makoto. My beloved Akari-kun and I are still learning every day about the sacred bonds involved therein …” Onari began.

“If you let him start talking, he’ll never stop,” said Akari, deftly reaching across to catch Arisa’s fingers before the little girl knocked over a plastic cup full of juice. “Congratulations, you two. Just take it one day at a time and try not to worry too much. You can only do your best.”

Onari gladly agreed to hold a wedding ceremony for the two grooms at Daitenkuu Temple. Only the certificate they would sign at the Town Hall together counted towards anything formal, but the ceremony would be the public declaration of their love and was hugely important to both of them. Makoto and Alan had already discussed this briefly and come to the conclusion that they’d like a simple, traditional ceremony. They hadn’t thought about the reception yet but Makoto guessed that Alan would have something a little more lavish in mind for that.

Kanon was sitting quietly, not eating. Makoto nudged her shoulder and gestured for her to come with him. He pretended to lead her towards Fumi-baa’s cart for some more takoyaki; then took her aside privately.

“I’m sorry, Kanon. I know this is difficult for you. Alan and I are getting married, and you –” Makoto took a deep breath, trying to choose his words as carefully, “You love that guy very much, even though you broke up with him.”

“It’s OK,” said Kanon, though the way her voice cracked didn’t bear this out at all.

“Maybe you still have a chance. Have you spoken to him yet? Who is he?”

Kanon was silent for several minutes. Makoto thought she was about to cry, but then she looked up at him, her expression determined. “I was going out with Takeru.”

“Takeru?!”

Makoto hadn’t seen that coming. It wasn’t that he _minded_ , not really. He was happy for them. If there was anyone he trusted with his precious sister, it would be Takeru; the gentlest, most loving person he knew, apart from Kanon herself. It would have been nice if Takeru had at least said something, though, and did that mean those underpants –

“Don’t be angry with him, onii-chan. I made him promise he wouldn’t say anything. It’s my fault,” said Kanon.

“It’s not your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong,” said Makoto. He closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to collect his thoughts, “I just wish you’d told me.”

“We didn’t want to upset you. I’m sorry.”

“How long ago did you –”

“About six months ago. A little longer than that, maybe. I don’t know,” said Kanon.

“That long?” Makoto’s stomach twisted with guilt. He’d been so involved in his own problems that he hadn’t noticed important changes in Kanon’s personal life or been there to listen to her. He would take care of _all_ his family from now on: his husband, both his sisters, and Takeru too.

“Master Takeru!” Onari called out. Kanon’s head jerked. Sure enough, Takeru had arrived and was making his way over towards the group.

“It’s OK.” Makoto touched her shoulder. “You should speak to him later. He’s not going to be upset with you. He kept asking about you when I called him. Maybe I should have noticed.” Makoto should _definitely_ have noticed.

He led Kanon back to the others. She exchanged glances with Takeru, who gave her a cautious smile in return. Slowly, Kanon’s expression changed into a smile of her own. That was a good sign. Makoto had faith that she and Takeru could work this out between them.

Takeru gave Makoto a hug, “Congratulations, Makoto-nii-chan.” Even a quick hug from Takeru was wonderful; so warm and loving.

“Thanks,” said Makoto.

“Is that your engagement ring?” Takeru’s eyes grew wide, and he grabbed Makoto’s wrist, holding Makoto’s hand up for everyone to see – “It’s enormous! Wow!”

“It is green tourmaline. _Not_ emerald,” said Alan.

“It looks like a weapon,” said Akari. “Isn’t that what gangsters wear for punching people with?”

Arisa said, “Mummy, I want a weapon too.”

“You’re not having one.”

Makoto was just the slightest bit miffed. Akari’s engagement ring was a plain band with a single diamond. Even Onari had some semblance of taste in that department although, if Makoto remembered rightly, Takeru had helped out there.

Fumi-baa came towards them, and Alan instantly went to her side; taking her arm and helping to keep her steady.

“Remind me, dear, why are we having a party? Is it your birthday?” Fumi-baa asked him.

“We are celebrating my forthcoming marriage to my true love," said Alan. "And also my nose. I think that is rather important.”


End file.
